


International Empire

by HarrisonMetay



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: And knives, F/M, Fluff, Found Family, GAY AWAKENINGS, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lion's got daddy issues, M/M, Medical Procedures, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, So many guns, Violence, but - Freeform, hes going to get over them, pride time but military, retractable metal fangs and claws, stray's got medical enhancements, we don't go into too much detail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24462091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarrisonMetay/pseuds/HarrisonMetay
Summary: Harry's finally managed to get an in with the Underground Information Brokers- Empire's Legion, and in a show of good faith, agrees to take on one of their field agents for a two-month test run. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Stray's reluctant to trust anyone. Also, he has retractable metal claws and fangs- and he hisses apparently. However no one has the time needed to fully adjust, the White Masks are on the move, and Rainbow is stretched thin as it is.
Relationships: Empire/Sleep, Harry/More Common Sense, Olivier "Lion" Flament/Gustave "Doc" Kateb, Stray/A therapist
Kudos: 10





	1. Prologue: Hope Springs Eternal

Spring in New York City is a strange phenomenon. It heralds change and growth, but danger still lurks in the expected places. The season is temperamental, a sudden snowstorm can always strike with punishing cruelty. Today, however, it’s a mild and sunny day. In Mid-Town there’s the usual hustle and bustle of tourists clogging the sidewalks and gawking at buildings, while office-and-other-workers pass by - with great annoyance, and some muttered curses. All a part of that big city charm. The sun catches on the glass of buildings, blinding anyone who bothers to look up. People pulse through the streets, never quite running into each other, while some lie on the streets, signs in hand. Hawkers on street corners barter their wares, while the corner stores raise their blinds to welcome any paying customers, displaying colorful clothing and flashing lights, hoping to draw the eye. Bodegas capitalize on these tourists as well, topped wall to ceiling with wares, each a story in its own right. It’s easy to get lost here, either in the crowds or among the many buildings and pass-throughs that make up this section of NYC. Well, only if you aren’t familiar with the area. And don’t have cell service. Which is the dilemma one Harishva “Harry” Pandey is currently facing. He’s supposed to be heading to Hunts Point. Which is in the opposite direction. A Ph.D. doesn’t mean you can read a subway map. Who knew.

And he’s running out of time for this Very Important Meeting with a Very Important Member of New York City’s society: even if the majority of the people in these streets passing him by don’t realize it. And any attempts at asking for directions tend to end with warnings of “don’t go to Hunts Point” or are absolutely indecipherable. Pacing around in his blue jeans and pink button-down, he looks the part of an office worker that is owned by iWork. Currently, he feels like a fish out of water, something he is not accustomed to and is not enjoying _at all._ Lucky for him, said Very Important Member of society had enough foresight to send a messenger his way.

“You know, all you have to do is take the 2 to Wakefield and get off at Intervale, then take the Bx6 to Halleck. Fucking tourist…” that last part was grumbled by someone who appeared behind Harry, who totally didn’t jump. Not even a little bit. Spinning around he was met with the unamused expression of someone who would rather be anywhere but here. Though, she did fit in with the rest of the crowds, if a bit more monochrome in color, all shades of grey. Deep brown hair, amber eyes, lightly tanned skin, average height, slightly muscular build. She did not stand out in the slightest, to Harry. Dangerous.

“Ah’m supposed to take you to Empire, he figured you’d be lost, given how sudden the meeting was called. Follow me and walk with haste. The subway cars close faster than you expect them to.” She narrowed her eyes, and twirled away on the balls of her feet, marching down towards Times Square. Harry rushed on after her, unnerved by how easily she snuck upon him. Being around so many operators had honed his detection skills more than the average person. He wondered if, for once, he was in over his head. Also, she had a slightly bizarre accent he could not place.


	2. First Impressions are Key

The ride to Hunt’s Point was an… experience for Harry. Being rather unaccustomed to the NYC subway and all its… characters. Thankfully it was the off-hours, so the car was relatively empty, and they both scored seats. The silent woman beside him was not helping either, barely responding to his queries, usually with one-word answers. Currently, she was bored flicking through Flitter. He got the feeling that she would rather be anywhere else with anyone else. Unlike the majority of the occupants, he also did not have the option of listing to music, since he had rushed to America before securing an international phone plan. So sue him, he was excited! It had taken months of careful wordplay and wary circling to get to this point, he could put up with listening to nothing, for a little while at least.

Harry was nudged in the side by an elbow. “Put your headphones in and look busy, stop gawking. Your drawing attention.” Said woman whispered to him. “Drawing attention… who are you worried about?” Harry whispered back.

“Sharper than most give you that. Normally have to spell it out more. Not telling though, ignorance is bliss. Head down, ears open, that’s all.” She returned to her position of staring at her phone. Except he noticed now that she wasn’t really looking through Flitter. She was observing the car’s occupants. Harry guessed that she also wasn’t listening to music either, but listening in on conversations. As for why, or for who, he had no idea. He wasn’t well versed in the Underground. Hopefully, that would change soon. He complied with her wishes and settled back for the rest of the ride.

* * *

Hunter was _mildly_ impressed by the man she was sent to fetch. Mildly and nothing more. And she would tell that to Empire and only Empire. While he was average the looks department, Hunter knew that was an asset in the field. Turning heads for any reason was usually not a good thing, at least in her experiences. Given, she worked in infiltration, so her experiences were not universal. Besides her girlfriends thought the world of her as she was. She drifted into that line of thought before quickly snapping back to the task at hand. Anyone else in her position would be pissed at being used for an escort mission, but she was also sent to observe and to test. So observe she shall. Also, she could probably barter a vacation out of Empire for doing this job well.

Invisibility is a weapon, and so is the mind. And Harry’s was sharp. Sharp enough not to press for more information about Hunter, or her unfounded-yet-totally-founded paranoia. Sharp enough to read between the lines. And flexible enough to stoop to the level of coming to the Underground. Most military folk wouldn’t touch them with a ten-foot pole. The not-quite legal halfway-to-gang space frightened off most people. So she made the conclusion that despite the reputation of the prior Six, a title Harry refused to use for some reason, Harry wasn’t deeply embedded in the military. Most likely had contracting work but was more on the information processing end. She wouldn’t fault Harry for getting lost in an unfamiliar place, but the hemming and hawing was a concern. As was the kiddish rushing in without contingencies. He also didn’t look to others for help. And didn’t expect Empire to send someone to meet him. He’s a puzzle for sure. Not really her taste, but she’d pass her… observations onto Empire. He’s caught her interest, no doubt. Maybe, maybe, Empire isn’t in over his head, for once. Though he probably is. Fucking hell, she’ll bail him out if she needs to though.

She turned her attention back to observing the car. They blend in, and that’s good. As long as Harry doesn’t open his mouth. While her accent is semi-rare if you leave the NYC and NJ areas, most people don’t bat an eye. Let them think she’s a dumb yokel. Harry’s is a problem though. It says posh and outsider and worst of all, foreigner. Not good. At least the car is empty-ish. And there are escape routes. The 2 never runs on time and there’s usually enough space to run to an emergency exit in case they need to go. And she’s armed, heavily. Her knives and pistol are reassuring but will bring attention if used.

She watches the patrons in the reflections of the windows, in peeks disguised as readjustments. Excluding herself and Harry, there are 6 people in the car. Two are elderly women, possibly Italian, but definitely the Mediterranean, according to the accent. Not a likely threat, but still possible. Two teenagers, both looking bored at their phones, definitely skipping school, but deep in conversation with each other. It’s about a teacher they both hate. Mr. Feeny, who assigns too much math homework. Low risk. The last two are higher risk. A transit officer, and an office worker. Both white, both in their twenties or thirties. The transit officer is of greater risk to the school skipping schoolkids but is still someone to keep tabs on. The office worker is the most dangerous. Easy to conceal weapons with those heavy, multilayered outfits. And an invisible disguise. There’s a million brown-haired, brown-eyed middling figured office workers in the city. And Hunter is always paranoid of the people you’d least expect. She’s on high alert until the announcement comes on that Intervale is the next station. Both she and Harry stand. So does the office worker. It’s almost showtime.

* * *

Harry watches the mystery woman, she’s tensed up, though it's subtle. But, Harry’s made it his life’s work to pick people apart, both through speaking with people and observing their body language. He has to hand it to her, she’s very in control of what she lets people see.

They are sitting together on the bus. Harry has never been more grateful for London’s public transit system, because it makes sense, unlike New York City’s. Double grateful for the guide Empire sent his way. He probably would’ve had to spend time in a taxi otherwise, and that’s not discrete enough for Harry’s tastes, or Empire’s for that matter. He’s spending his time watching the streets roll past, nearing the destination off of Hunt’s Point. He’s noticed a fair bit of new construction occurring, all the same company, Empire State Limited. If he had his phone, he could check his hunch. The woman next to him is as conversational as ever, and he is resigned to his fate of being begrudgingly babysat. He goes back to people watching in the windows, having noticed that the woman was doing that on the subway. She’s probably doing it now that he thinks about it. A healthy amount of paranoia means that she’s very experienced, though he does worry about her mental health. She seems fairly young, only in her early twenties, if that, and she’s too experienced to have learned this in a… safe way. The bus continues to roll and thump over every bump in the road. The buildings are old and grey, the people greyer, a far cry from the manufacturing heyday they all once enjoyed. Every now and again he catches sight of some graffiti, the only real color in this place besides the trash. Now her outfit makes sense. She’s from here, or at the very least, adapted to it.

The bus begins to stop, and the mild-mannered and tired looking bus driver announces that this stop is Halleck. Harry moves to get up, as does his escort. He lets her take point, unfamiliar and feeling more out of his league with each step around, over, and through piles of garbage. She turns down an alley, swiftly. He hustles to keep up.

Without warning, he is slammed to the wall, her hand over his mouth. She raises a finger to her mouth, a warning to be quiet. He then hears some hurried footsteps grow closer. He nods, she lets him go. She stands in front of him, protectively, she's familiar with this. She waits at the corner. The footsteps hurry, slow, then stop. Harry can only hear the thudding in his heart. It's growing louder by the second he swears. Breathing seems harder. And she has a gun, ready to draw. Why does she have a gun? How did he not notice the gun? Also, Bandit would approve. The footsteps come closer. She moves.

Fluid, practiced, and elegant. Grabbing the assailant by the wrist, she slams them against the wall, thrusting their stomach with a well-placed knee, placing an arm against their throat, gun at their head already. One fluid motion. He is reminded of Caviera for a split second. He takes a second and recognizes the office worker from the subway car. He hadn’t even noticed that they were being followed. But she did. And now shes there, teeth bared in a snarl, silent, and now. Now. Now… she’s smirking? What?

“You did good Scout. Not perfect, but good. Harry here didn’t even know you were following us. And he’s sharper than most.”

Office worker or Scout(?) seemed disgruntled. She let him down and slapped his back gently. His eyes glanced over to Harry, and then back to the woman, she made a sign with her hand, a fist she flicked up. “How’d you notice me, Hunter?” He rasped out, rubbing his throat a little. Must’ve been more pressure exerted than Harry realized.

“Tie’s to memorable, go for something simpler next time. Mindless office workers don’t need personality unless you’re going deep.” The woman-Hunter- responded with the most expression he’d heard all morning. Then it clicked.

“You used me… for a training exercise?” Harry sputtered out, somewhat indignantly. “What, you use every opportunity to get better at what you do,” Hunter replied without any apologies. “Anyways, let’s get you to Empire, it’s only a few more blocks to walk.” Hunter continued. “By the way, you did well too. You recognized him, you noticed I was scanning, and you didn’t panic. You get a passing grade from me.” She spun around at that and Scout followed her. Harry shook himself awake and proceeded to hustle after them. Damn New Yorkers walked to fast for him. She led him past some warehouses, rusting, grey, falling apart. Then down some side streets, narrow, garbage-filled, also grey. Those two blended in, he stuck out, all bright colors. And he was very aware now of how easy he was to find and track. They stopped at a large, squat grey building that took up the majority of the black. It had a sign above it, Empire State Limited. His hunch was correct then. He’s made one good impression. It’s time to make the second.

* * *

Hunter and Scout were not the ordinary members of Legion, Harry realized as soon as he entered the building. For one, he wasn’t expecting a large, loud cafeteria jam-packed full of people of all colors, shapes, sizes, and everything else he guessed. He saw one man more scarred than most soldiers rubbing arms with a girl who looked like she walked out of a magazine cover. Then he noticed a few other people like Hunter and Scout, the “normal ones”. Also, there was a very impressive rack of weapons by the front doo…. Hunter and Scout had just offloaded a full kit of weaponry on that rack. Harry didn’t even know they were armed. Well, he knew Hunter was armed but didn’t realize it was more than the gun. Hunter directed Scout off to do… something with some hand signals and he melted away into the fray. Then she turned towards him, grabbing his arm and pulling him close. “Don’t open your mouth. Let me talk for you until we get to the blue room with Empire. And stay. By me. No wandering.” She directed with sudden seriousness. She maintained her hold and marched off, without waiting for Harry’s input.

The base? Headquarters? Command station? It was a deceptively large and warren-like building once they left the cafeteria. There was very little decoration on the walls, all the hallways were the same color, and there was no trace of the outside world. A bland, boring office building, that was very easy to get lost it if you didn’t know where you were going. Which was probably the point, Harry realized. After all, the Empire’s Legion operated in a shady space, with high public opinions and squeaky clean public records thwarting authorities from gaining access to the trove of information they routinely dealt with. And all the underworld connections they had as well. While Harry had been lost inside his mind analyzing the situation, they soon came to a stop outside of a plain wooden door in a hallway filled with other plain wooden doors. Hunter's knocking is what brought him out of his thoughts.

The door opened suddenly, and an exhausted man appeared. The first thing Harry noted was that he was easily shorter than Mozzie. The second thing he noticed where the sweatpants, which were hot pink and had strawberries on them. He had grey hair and brown eyes and eye bags that Mira often sported when working through some gadget problems. Said tired man stared Harry down for a moment or two before looking at Hunter and asking “Is this him? Wait, of course, it is, who else would it be? Ignore my dumbassery.” Followed swiftly by Hunter replying “How long ago did you sleep Empire. It had better have been within the last 24 hours.” And the newly named Empire simply sucked in a breathe, hawed, and turned around, gesturing vaguely to come in and sit down. Harry didn’t know what to think. The tactical mastermind of the Underground is a short, hot-pink-sweatpants-wearing insomniac, who was so… young. And defeated looking. Empire sat down with a tired huff and said “I know I'm not what people expect of me, but that’s my key strength. I’m letting you know this because I want this partnership to be built on mutual trust, and eventually friendship. The White Masks have been wreaking havoc on the Under and Overworld, and people tend to turn to me for answers. I can’t predict the targets _yet_ , but I will be offering a trade of manpower. One of my field agents, skilled in kill, capture, and tactics, in return for government documents about apprehended White Masks. Hopefully, there’s something in there that can correlate with the underworld information I have access to.” Empire made a gesture in Harry’s direction after launching into his spiel. Harry started, not expecting an immediate launch into negotiations. In fact, he had anticipated having to wheedle his way into many more meetings before even getting this far. Harry saw a weak point. Harry bit in hard.

“This seems hasty. Something’s happened, hasn’t it?” Harry said, fishing for some answers. “We foiled a coordinated White Mask attack on several schools in New York City. Unfortunate, the FBI was the group that got there first, so we came away with no new information. They’re getting bolder. We won’t have much more time before they become successful, and we are being stretched thin. We weren’t meant to handle terrorism.” This was not a reply Harry was expecting, but he appreciated the honesty and communicated this to Empire. But Harry also realized that at this point, Empire was speaking for the majority of the Underground. A royal we it would appear. “So I’m guessing this explains the exhaustion. But I would need to know more about this field agent and have a trial run, so to say, before fully committed. Say 2 months? I’ll hand over documents related to the United States, so it’s not a fully dissatisfactory deal. But I need to know if this agent would be viable in Rainbow.” Harry stated. Empire let out a soft hum. “I can’t, in good faith, let you everything I know about this particular agent. I had to win this information. You can read a file all day long but people are often not as beheld to their past as people believe they are. I said I wanted this relationship between Rainbow and The Legion to be built on friendship and trust. Please, trust me. I believe he will do great things in Rainbow if given the chance.” He finished with sudden energy and passion, leaning forwards a little, eyes a little lighter than before.

Harry could see that this was a desperate attempt from someone who has seen something horrible, and who never wanted to see it again. His motives where noble, even if his position was not. “A 2-month trial then. Rainbow has been split up as well, while Hereford remains the center of operations, are down to 3 units of operators now, GIGN, Spetznaz, GSG9, and CBRN.” –“wouldn’t that be four units?” “our CBRN division has 2 members, one French, the other Russian, so we count them towards the GIGN and Spetznas respectively. Will this suffice for your agent?” Harry continued on. Empire paused to think “Yes if anything this will give him time to build relationships without being overwhelmed by too many strange people at once. It’s a more … controlled introduction.” There was a knock at the door. “Speaking of, that should be a Scout bringing him over now,” he said before raising his voice to call “Come in!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FEH. I should be working on my thesis but I got tired of writing about Brooklyn-99-But-Superheroes. I don’t actually have a title for my script yet whoops. Feel free to suggest one, because currently it's called Project X, with the pilot episode called "Come Get Your Kidlante!  
> My Advisor: Confused.   
> My Peers: Excited.   
> Me: Thriving as much as possible.

**Author's Note:**

> That accent (for Scout) is central New Jersey at its finest, not present in writing though because attempting to capture the essence of Jerze in phonetics would leave her dialogue too difficult to read by ESL readers.   
> Also, Harry has always struck me as a man who occasionally goes a little too far down the rabbit hole, but, you know what they say: curiosity killed the cat, satisfaction brought it back. And I think he’ll come out like the cat that got the cream.


End file.
